


Partners in Crime

by CatWingsAthena



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Because they're just... used to it, Best Friends, Friendship, Gen, Life with a roommate is weird, Men Crying, Mentioned Leanna Martin, Mentioned Murdoc, Mentions of Communism, Sick Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), That aren't actually all that awkward, Vomiting, Yup it's gonna be an interesting one, chapters of variable length
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27511258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatWingsAthena/pseuds/CatWingsAthena
Summary: Four conversations in the lives of Wilt Bozer and Angus MacGyver that could've been weird... but weren't. Because at this point, what is?Or, that fic I wrote for my best friend on the occasion of our seven-year friend-iversary, based on some... interesting conversations we've had over the years.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 43





	1. "May I borrow your underwear?"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aquantumkitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquantumkitten/gifts).



> Hey, everybody! This fic is for my dear, dear friend and three-year college roommate, known on this site as aquantumkitten, with whom I recently celebrated seven years of friendship. We have a running joke that, at this point, it would be pretty much impossible for us to have an awkward conversation, because we've covered so much ground there's very little left. I figured Mac and Bozer would be the same way, probably even more so since they'd known each other longer, and thought of this fic. Every chapter is based--to a greater or lesser degree, I took some major liberties with context to make it suit these characters--on a conversation quantum and I have actually had. (There was another chapter in the beginning, but quantum nixed it for very valid boundaries reasons and I didn't want to come up with another chapter, so sorry the first chapter is so short--it wasn't originally the first.)
> 
> Quantum, I'm so glad I met you. You're a light to the world and to my life. Nobody shines like you, and I know that no matter where you end up in life, whatever you're doing, you're going to keep being your incredible self and making your corner of the world a better, more interesting place to be. So many hugs.
> 
> Anyway, happy reading!

Mac was trying to figure out what was wrong with the faucet when Bozer walked in, looking mildly uncomfortable.

Mac couldn’t tell if the discomfort was physical or mental, but it was definitely there.

“Hey, Mac,” said Bozer. “Uh, it’s laundry day, and... I’m kind of out of underwear? And normally I just wouldn’t wear any, it’d be fine, but... the pants I’m down to kinda chafe.”

Ah. Both, then.

“So... I was wondering if I could borrow some of yours? I’ll put them in your laundry at the end of the day.” Bozer winced.

Mac tried, with minimal success, to suppress a smile. “Sure thing, Boze. My underwear are in the second drawer from the top, you can just go into my room and get some if you want.”

“And, just to be clear... there’s nothing in your underwear drawer I shouldn’t see?”

Mac snorted. “If I want to hide something, you don’t think I can do better than my underwear drawer?”

“Point taken.”

(Eventually, they didn’t need to ask.)


	2. The Puke Bowl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter contains moderately graphic vomiting and may induce secondhand embarrassment. Hope you enjoy!

Bozer opened the door to the house he shared with Mac, holding two bags of supplies on his other hand.

Among other items, Bozer had bought cough medicine (mostly expectorants, although he’d reluctantly bought a cough suppressant as well in the interests of helping Mac sleep), a new thermometer (Mac had a frustrating habit of cannibalizing thermometers for parts right before one of them got sick), ingredients for soup, and lots of tissues.

The flu that had been going around had hit Mac hard. He was coughing fit to wake the dead, he was wracked with chills, and, if Bozer didn’t miss his guess, despite Mac not having said a thing, he had nasty body aches and a killer headache.

This had been going on since... well, Bozer didn’t really know when. The cough had been around for about a month, actually, he’d never really gotten over that cold in December, although he’d been doing his best to stifle it (and, based on the stock in the cabinet, taking an unholy amount of cough suppressants, which was probably just making the problem worse, it  _ would _ be Mac who gave himself pneumonia because he wouldn’t admit to being sick—hence Bozer’s reluctance to buy more). But last night it had gotten bad enough that Mac couldn’t ignore it anymore.

He’d called in sick from work today. Unfortunately, Bozer had still been called in to work on disguises for another field team. Upon hearing that Mac was sick, Jack had immediately wanted to rush to his house to check on him, but Matty had reminded him that  _ he _ was not sick and, even with their field team down a member, there was still paperwork to be done. Jack had argued the point, but eventually acquiesced. Both Bozer and Jack had been antsy all day, worried about Mac.

When they finally left the building, Jack had immediately found Bozer. “Be honest, do I need to come over?”

Bozer shook his head. He didn’t think Mac would appreciate being helicopter-ed right now. “It’s okay. We’ve got it.”

Jack frowned, but nodded. “That changes, you call me.”

“Will do.”

On his way home, Bozer had stocked up on the stuff he would need to take care of a sick Mac for the next... however long this lasted.

Hence the current load he was carrying.

When he got inside, he found Mac lying on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and shivering.

“What are you doing up?” asked Bozer. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

Mac looked down. “I threw up on the floor in the hall,” he croaked out. “Coughed too hard, I guess. I tried to clean it up, but... I don’t know how good a job I did. There’s a couple towels in the bathtub, they’re, uh, really gross...”

Bozer nodded, carefully keeping his expression neutral, even though his heart hurt at how Mac was literally coughing so hard he threw up and  _ still _ worried about not doing a good enough job. “Okay,” he said. “Here.” He went into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl from the cupboard, and handed it to Mac with a flourish. “This is my least favorite mixing bowl. You gotta throw up again and can’t get to the bathroom fast enough, do it in that.”

Mac stared at the bowl for a second. “Thanks.”

Bozer almost made a joke about how he was just trying to keep their space clean, but decided against it. “So, uh, where exactly did you puke? ‘Cause I can go check to see if I need to finish cleaning.”

“Just outside my room,” Mac said shakily. “If it’s not clean enough, I can...” The words broke off into a violent coughing fit.

“Okay,” said Bozer, when the coughing finally subsided a solid minute later. “I can... see why you threw up.” Then, he frowned. Mac had been holding a pillow to his side while he coughed—subtly, sure, but unmistakably. “Hang on, did you mess up a rib?”

Mac looked down. “Might’ve.”

Bozer sighed quietly. “How bad?”

“Um... it might be cracked?”

“And you didn’t lead with that?”

Mac shrugged. “There’s nothing anyone can do about it.”

Just then, the phone rang.

Mac looked at it. “Jack.”

“Well, pick up! And be honest!”

Mac slowly picked up the phone, then hit “answer”. “Hey.”

Bozer could just make out the other end of the conversation.

“How are you?” asked Jack. “And be honest.”

“You are not the first person to tell me that in the past five minutes,” Mac said hoarsely.

“Good. Bozer knows what he’s talking about. You checking your temperature? Drinking enough water? Taking your meds? And I don’t just mean cough suppressants, you know those things aren’t good if you take ‘em too long—”

“I’m  _ fine,” _ Mac sighed.

The sigh was a bad idea.

Mac immediately set off on another violent coughing fit, and this one didn’t stop.

He put the phone down, grabbed the bowl, and threw up what little was in his stomach—mostly foamy bile.

When he was done, a silence hung in the air for a moment.

Broken by a quiet voice from the phone. “That doesn’t sound fine to me.”

“SHIT!” shouted Mac, and immediately hung up.

He picked up the phone and frantically texted something.

A moment later, he looked up.

“So, uh, Jack’s coming over,” he said, face bright red.

Bozer fought back a smile. “Kinda figured that. You doing okay?”

“I’m okay. Just... that’s definitely getting added to the list of things Jack is never letting me live down.”

Bozer nodded. “Well, it’s a good thing you have just as much on him, then.”

Mac smiled faintly. “That I do.”

“Oh, and Mac?”

“Yeah?”

Bozer gestured to the puke-stained mixing bowl in Mac’ hands. “Keep the bowl.”


	3. Floor Chats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains discussions of a breakup and a mention of Nikki. Hope you enjoy!

Mac was walking through the entryway to his house, on his way to the kitchen to make himself dinner, when he noticed the light on in what had once been Bozer’s room.

He’d left the light off. He was sure of it. Hell, he hadn’t even been  _ in  _ there in a while, not having had occasion to.

But the light was on.

As far as Mac knew, Murdoc was still at the Phoenix black site. But nothing was certain with him. And besides, Mac had plenty of other enemies. Maybe one of them had gotten cocky enough to sneak into his house (although his lock was fairly pick-proof, unless you were  _ really  _ good, and Mac hadn’t noticed any sign of forced entry...) and actually turn on a light.

Whatever this was, Mac needed to be ready.

Mac grabbed an umbrella from the stand in the corner and slowly made his way down the hall.

When he arrived at Bozer’s old room, he flung the door open...

To find Bozer lying on the floor.

The first thing Mac noticed was that Bozer had barely even flinched when the door swung open.

The second thing was that he was crying.

“Umm... what are you doing down there?” Mac asked.

“I am communing with the floor,” Bozer sniffled. “My spirit is floor-like.”

Mac took a breath. “Okay. Gimme one second.”

Mac grabbed a tissue from the bathroom across the hall, lay down on the floor next to Bozer, and handed him the tissue.

For a moment, they just lay there, Bozer wiping his eyes, until he’d stopped crying.

“So,” said Mac, trying to keep his tone light but gentle. “Any particular reason we’re on the floor?”

“I know why  _ I’m  _ on the floor,” Bozer mumbled.

“Sounds like we each have half the puzzle, then.”

Bozer took a deep breath.

Mac stayed quiet.

When Bozer finally spoke, it was in a shaky voice. “Leanna left for an undercover today.”

“Boze, I’m sorry—”

“That’s not all.” Bozer took another breath and continued in a slightly sturdier tone. “We talked about it, and”—Bozer’s voice broke again—“it’s over.”

Mac nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Bozer sighed. “I knew from the beginning, I mean, from the  _ very _ beginning, that she was gonna pick the job over me if it ever came down to it.”

Mac sensed a story there, but silently told his curiosity to stuff it.

“And after what Matty went through... we just... agreed it would be best.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck, does it.”

“Nope.”

They lay there in silence for a while, listening to the background hum of the appliances and their own breathing.

“So... you came here, and ended up on the floor?” Mac finally asked.

“I couldn’t go back to our apartment,” Bozer said. “Not knowing she’s gone. And... I didn’t know where else to go. But then climbing into a bed in your house without you knowing, while you were out, seemed a little weird, even if you weren’t using it, but by then I was kind of out of energy and I just sorta... crashed.” Bozer sniffled again. “I’m sorry, I know it makes no sense, but...”

“You don’t have to make sense right now,” Mac said, without thinking.

He could tell from the look Bozer gave him that he recognized the source. It was something Jack had said to him a few times, when he was compromised in some way and trying frantically to stay coherent for no good reason. 

Bozer shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them. “So why are  _ you  _ on the floor?”

“I thought it might make you feel better, or at least surprise you out of whatever headspace you were stuck in. And I intend to stay here until you’re feeling at least a bit better, by the way.”

Bozer snorted. “You might be here a while.”

“Fine by me.”

A long pause.

“I just...” Bozer broke off. “I let myself hope for something people like us don’t get. There are no happily-ever-afters in this job. And I knew that. But I still...” Bozer dabbed at his eyes with the tissue again.

Mac’s stomach twisted. It wasn’t like Bozer to be so pessimistic, but... he was right. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, Boze.”

Bozer turned his head to meet Mac’s eyes. “I’m not sorry,” he said. “I’m doing something good for the world. Something I want to be doing. I’ll take the consequences. And... maybe this is stupid, but I don’t regret Leanna either.”

Mac waited for Bozer to continue his train of thought.

“I mean... she’s amazing. And what we had was amazing. And I’m not sorry she was in my life for a while. Even though it hurts, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Mac slowly. Truth was, he didn’t really. He sure as hell regretted Nikki.

But this was different, and, if Bozer could see things that way, good for him.

After a moment, Bozer took a deep breath and sat up, and Mac followed suit.

“I’m not sorry,” said Bozer. “But I still...” Tears welled up in his eyes again.

“I know,” said Mac quietly, holding out his arms.

Bozer leaned into them, tears soaking into Mac’s shirt.

“I got you,” whispered Mac. “I got you.”

They stayed like that for a while, until Bozer broke the contact.

Mac sat back slightly and looked Bozer in the eye.

“How you feeling?” he asked. “Really.”

Bozer sighed. “I’m tired, grieving, and thirsty.”

Mac nodded. “I can fix one of those things. Gimme a sec.”

He went to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and brought it back to Bozer.

Bozer stared at the glass for a moment before taking it and raising it to his mouth.

After a few swallows, he lowered the glass and gave a tiny smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m like this tonight.”

“You were really hoping for the two of you to work out. You invested a lot, you risked a lot, for something that just ended. It’s totally fair you’re upset about that.”

Bozer nodded and took another sip of his water.

Mac looked at him. “What do you need?”

Bozer sighed. “Can we, like, watch a movie? One where the science is so bad you’ll shred it to pieces and the people are so dumb I can’t help but yell instructions at them?”

Mac smiled. “Sounds good to me.”


	4. "Communism, if everyone was you"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains... political speculation? Specifically, speculation on why communism never seems to work in practice. Hope you enjoy!

Bozer wasn’t entirely sure how the conversation had gotten around to this point.

He and Mac were sitting out on the deck, by the firepit, talking about the faults of various forms of government. “Communism doesn’t fail in practice because humans are naturally selfish,” Mac was saying. “It fails because it pretends humans are simpler than we are. We’re complicated.”

“But I think selfish impulses have something to do with it,” said Bozer. “You can’t start a communist government without having someone in power at first, and people in power tend to want to stay in power—hang on.” Bozer smiled. “Would communism work if everyone was you?”

Mac blinked. “What?”

“You’re the least selfish person I know. If everyone in the world was you, would communism work?”

Mac laughed. “I mean, thank you, but no. God, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because all the jobs you need to make a society run would still need doing, and can you imagine me doing a job that requires sitting still?”

Bozer laughed, a mental image of a very bored and antsy Mac involving his equally bored and antsy coworkers in an office-supply battle popping into his head. “Okay, point.”

Mac looked thoughtful. “It might work a little better if everyone was  _ you,  _ though. I mean, you’re selfless, too.”

“Um... I don’t think that would work so well, either.”

“I said  _ better, _ not  _ well.” _

Bozer snorted. “Okay.”

“And I know there’s jobs you wouldn’t want to do, but then, if there was a rotating system, so no one you would have to work any of those for too long—I just think, you’re amazing at what we do, but... don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you’d be better than me at not doing it, y’know? I mean, you’re fine with adrenaline, but you don’t...”

“Need it to function?” piped up a voice from behind them.

“Desi?” said Mac. “First, you’re projecting, and second, how long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” Desi said. Then, she looked around. “Hang on, you two are having this conversation and you’re  _ sober?” _

Mac smiled. “Yep.”

Desi rolled her eyes. “Okay.”

Then, she turned and walked away.

Mac turned back to Bozer. “So,” he said. “Lamest possible superpower. Go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you have a wonderful day!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this! If you did, I'd love it if you could let me know below!


End file.
